


Lepidoptera

by Salmon_Pink



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: femslash_kink, F/F, Femslash Friday, Incest, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-04
Updated: 2015-12-04
Packaged: 2018-05-04 23:25:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5352293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salmon_Pink/pseuds/Salmon_Pink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A flutter of damp eyelashes, a flutter of the heart, a flutter of her cruelty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lepidoptera

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [Femslash Friday](https://www.tumblr.com/tagged/femslash-friday), and for [The Femslash Kink Meme](https://femslash-kink.dreamwidth.org), [prompt](http://femslash-kink.dreamwidth.org/15813.html?thread=2098629#cmt2098629) "Bellatrix/Narcissa, finger-fucking".

Narcissa groans, the sound a pathetic croak, head tossing weakly against the pillows. Her hands scrabble at the sheets; her hips try to buck up, though she barely has the energy to lift them.

Bellatrix grins down at her, panting with exertion, her eyes _manic_. Her normally pale skin is flushed, her eyeliner is smudged, her mascara has run from blinking sweat out of her eyes. She looks _dangerous_ , like an animal toying with its prey.

Narcissa’s cunt clenches down on the fingers still buried within her, and Bellatrix cackles and fucks them in deeper. This is always Bellatrix's favourite game, dragging Narcissa through climax after climax until she’s shaking and weak and _helpless_ , mewling desperately for every touch.

That’s how Bellatrix expresses her love - by tearing Narcissa down and making her _enjoy_ it.

She yelps when Bellatrix yanks her fingers from Narcissa’s pussy, fast enough to make her throb at the sudden emptiness. She spreads Narcissa’s folds, no gentleness to it, pulling her apart wide enough to make her whimper, make her _burn_. 

“You’re the prettiest colour,” Bellatrix breathes, thumbing at Narcissa’s slit, mean little press of her fingernail that has Narcissa trembling, gasping, biting at her lip. “Gone red as anger, you have, my sweet sister.”

She grabs Narcissa’s wrist, hauls her up. Bellatrix is wiry, her body made of sharp angles, but she’s always been stronger than she looks. She pulls Narcissa into a kiss that tastes like tears, manipulating her body like a marionette, settling Narcissa on her knees just so she can shove her forward, face-first on to the mattress.

“If they could all see you now,” Bellatrix sighs, voice dreamy and playful and full of sin. “Their regal ice queen, arse in the air, offering herself up like a _whore_.” 

Narcissa tries to get her hands under her, but long fingers tangle in her hair. Bellatrix grinds Narcissa’s face down against the sheets, and they’re wet beneath her, _reeking_ of sex - it’s where Bellatrix had her spread before, her own juices staining the fabric.

Narcissa’s eyes fall closed, opening her mouth and breathing the scent in _deep_.

Bellatrix fucks her like that, on her knees, from behind, a pounding and unrelenting rhythm. Narcissa can hear the creak of the bed, the rustle of the bedclothes. She can hear the edge to Bellatrix’s breath, the strain from the thrust of her arm, until her own moans drown out everything else. 

Bellatrix avoids Narcissa’s clit, avoids that harder little nub inside. She pumps her fingers in and out of Narcissa’s cunt until she’s _dripping_ , until she’s sore and on the edge and sobbing into the sheets. Begging over and over, “Please, Bella, _please_.”

Bellatrix’s free hand rakes down Narcissa’s spine. “My lovely little doll,” she whispers. “My lovely little sister.” She spreads her fingers within Narcissa’s pussy, reaches around to pinch down _hard_ on her clit. Narcissa’s body seizes up; she jerks back on her knees as she tries to fuck into Bellatrix’s hands. Her climax wrings her out, so strong it _hurts_ , pleasure and pain pouring through her until her mind is swimming with it.

She can hear Bellatrix laughing through it all, like an echo in her head, cruel and filthy and twisted. It's like moths fluttering over her skin; Narcissa has grown addicted to the sensation.


End file.
